Growing up in the Projects in Queens, Ny
Growing up in Queens:
Losing A Friend Over The Dance The Hustle.
A HOUSING PROJECT STORY:
I thought I saw my friend, Shelly, doing the hustle in the basketball park. So, I smiled, and my strides grew wider as I dreamt about learning that trot.
See, Shelly, and I made a promise that whoever learned the Hustle first would teach the dance step to the other. So, when I approached her. I said,
"Hey, now show me."
"I can't."
"What? Why?"
"Because of Pita. I promised her I would not show you the dance that's why she taught me."
I was stunned, hurt, and I realized those words my friend had said meant she was not my friend.
That is when I noticed Pita smirking at my expressive pain. I did not need or want to figure out why she held me in such disdain.
See, I grew up in the ... Projects, and everything was competitive. Corn-braiding -- I could not do -- double dutch jumping -- I tried to do -- smoking -- I choked off of -- boys -- my parents would have killed me -- but dancing well that was my big to do.
See, in my ... Projects, I was one of the few girls known as a quick dance learner, and one of the best dancers to boot. Being a great dancer in the Projects places one in high esteem.
As if I could ever brag about my love of learning or how my reading level was two grades higher than my actual grade.
So, I practiced a dance step -- I learned -- every night and day.
After a while it seemed no one -- including Pita, and Shelly -- wanted to teach me any dance steps.
So, I decided to stop asking, and just watch and learned ....
This story has some facts and some fiction within it.
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This content is accurate and true to the best of the author’s knowledge and is not meant to substitute for formal and individualized advice from a qualified professional.
© 2011 N E Wright